Marjorie's Puppet Boy
by NotMarge
Summary: Marjorie is just Chester Creb's ventriloquist doll. Isn't she?


I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

And I don't do ventriloquism. Thank goodness

Marjorie's Puppet Boy

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><p>Hello, it's nice to meet you.<p>

My name is Marjorie. I am a ventriloquist doll.

I am made of wood, paint, and fabric.

I have black curled hair, red lips, and wear a red dress.

I have levers on a rod in my back that moves my mouth and turns my head.

I belong to Chester Creb.

Chester is in control of me. He talks for me, moves me, controls me.

For I am just a doll.

The first day he saw me in the novelty store window, his eyes lit up. He walked right in and laid down his money.

The store owner wrapped me up and Chester carried me home like I was made of gold and precious jewels.

He took me out of my box so carefully, so gently. Touched a trembling finger to my cheek, softly stroked the hem of my dress.

He spent long, long hours with me, just the two of us. Talking, laughing, making jokes.

I was never more beautiful, more clever, more appealing, than when I was with Chester.

Because he controlled me, of course.

Because I am just a doll.

He left me out of my box, almost never put me in it, except to take me from place to place.

I didn't like my box. It was dark and suffocating. I couldn't see or hear anything.

And it made me unhappy.

Or would have, if I could feel emotions.

Which I can't, of course.

Because I am doll.

And dolls can't think, can't feel

Chester only had eyes for me. He cared only about me. He loved only me.

Until he met her.

She thought I was cute, adorable.

And a doll.

And I was, of course.

The first time they had their intimates, he left me in the living room, in my box.

Closed.

Which of course wasn't a problem for me.

Because I am a doll.

Then when he was sent away to war, I was put in my box in the garage with all his magic sundries.

I stayed there a long, long time.

Alone in the dark, in the quiet, in the lonely.

Which didn't bother me at all.

Because I am a doll.

When he did return and took me out of the box, I felt reborn.

He looked so handsome in his army uniform.

We sat and talked for hours and hours.

He was different now. Scarred. On the inside as well as the outside.

And the world had moved on, betrayed him.

There was a plate in his head and he didn't know his wife anymore because she had changed.

She didn't understand him. Didn't love him. Didn't want him anymore.

And I hated her.

Or would have, if I were something other than a lifeless doll.

But I comforted him. I loved him. I was there for him anytime he needed.

So he kept me near him almost all the time.

Because I calmed him, he said.

Which is, of course, completely ridiculous.

Because I am just a doll.

With no personality and no life at all.

I was completely incapable of killing Chester's wife or her female lover.

Or influencing Chester to do the same.

But when he did, it was just he and I again.

Just the two of us, on the road, seeing the world.

Selling chameleons.

He was very excited about the freak show when he heard about it.

And even more excited about performing his magic act.

And presenting me, of course.

His headliner.

She, that crass Elsa Mars, didn't appreciate me as much he thought she would.

Unfortunate that she was so worldly yet had so little culture to her.

Such a shame, a pity.

Not that it concerned me, being a lifeless doll and all.

But it did concern Chester.

And then there were those bizarre, two headed freak girls.

Cooing and batting their eyelashes at him, like little loose little tramps.

They didn't care for him like I did. They didn't understand him like I did. They would only hurt him in the end.

Not like me.

I would always look to do the best for him, look out for him. Take care of him.

Or would if I were not simply a doll.

But poor, sweet, naive Chester didn't see their ruse.

So when they offered him their freakish body, he wanted them.

He thought he could be normal with them. Be something other than what he was.

Which was ridiculous.

Chester Creb will never, could never, be anything other than the slightly disturbed, slightly unhinged, slightly homicidal man he is.

But he still needed me, to be there, to provide him with confidence to do what he wanted.

And because I loved him, I did.

Or would if I were something other than a mindless doll.

I saw it coming, of course.

They started working on him. To put me away. For good.

Me, who had done so much for him.

Just as his slut of a wife had done.

And I just knew I was headed for the box again.

Unless I could get rid of them.

Which is of course impossible for a helpless doll.

Which I am.

I thought our fun was all over.

Until the fun began in earnest.

And Chester did it, all by himself.

By putting _another_ girl in _another_ box.

A skinny, blond haired little twit who actually _volunteered _for it.

I sat in my place of honor where Chester placed me.

I sat and watched him perform just for me.

He looked so handsome in his sparkly red magician's jacket and top hat.

As he sawed that little idiot in half.

Her screams were like symphonic music to my ears.

Her blood was like a beautiful, painted sunset, dripping thickly down the sides of the box.

The metallic aroma was better even than the fresh picked flowers Chester had taken to bringing me while we were on the road alone together.

And when he pulled the box apart and her insides plopped out like bouncy sausages in their casings, I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Because it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.

Or would have been for a real girl instead of a lifeless ventriloquist doll made of wood and paint and fabric.

Which is what I am, of course.

Because I am just a doll.

A doll made of wood and paint and fabric.

With no sentient mind at all.

Or ability to control my sweet, simple little puppet boy.

My Chester Creb.

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><p><strong>I really hoped you feel just a touch freaked out. If not, well, I tried. ;)<strong>

**Thanks to brigid1318, my mystery guest, and the1upguy for surviving and reviewing this snippet of the batcrap crazy of Chester/Marjorie. You guys are great!**

**Thanks to Justin Elkins for the great review and your song rocks! :D**

**Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.**


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